Books

Day 15: When Breath Becomes Air

A neurosurgeon reflects on the meaning of life as he approaches death. What could be bad about that, right? Such poignant irony! Such perspective!

When I plucked this off of my wife’s section of the bookshelf, that’s what was running through my head.

“Great, I’ll read it and then my wife and I can talk about it together!”

So I’m psyched. I love books about death. I love reading books by super smart people. I get settled in and start reading.

It quickly becomes clear to me that I’m reading a collection of essays, panicked diary entries, and dollar store philosophical ramblings. Apparently the editors, without a living author to work with, decided to just ship it as they found it.

If Kalanithi had made a miraculous recovery, he’d have reread this, realized that it’s sentimental hallmark movie slop, and tucked it in the drawer where it belongs.

I went to my wife to say all this. Her response: “Oh yeah, never read it.”

Two stars. Don’t fall for it.

Day 16: Death in Venice

A book about age, illness, decay, and obsessing over a teenage boy so hard that you die. There’s a lot going on underneath the fairly mild surface, which is typical for Mann. 

I love writing that draws on classical stories and myths, which this does heavily. But Mann is subtle about it mostly and I prefer it to hit me on the head like a billy club. 

It’s an unsettling book on every level. You feel like a sick old degenerate just reading it. For a book without deep cringe that handles some of the same themes, I recommend Narcissus and Goldmund by Hesse. 

That being said, it’s undeniably a classic. Four stars for its type.